The Running Man
by Spirit o' Fire
Summary: There's more than just three or four Runners, you know. Takes place before, during, and after Mirror's Edge.


Being a runner entitled harrowing jumps, bottomless pitfalls, and the grim fact that any jump could be your last. Most runners ignored these facts, however, and even when off duty, they were running around the city just daring the Blues to try to get them.

Jack "Jazz" Raferty, ironically, was not one of those runners. There he sat, in the Café d'Picard, waiting. But…waiting for what? Not even Jazz knew. He just had a hunch. So, he followed his gut, as he so often did, and sat down with the newspaper and just…waited.

Jazz took another sip of his coffee, and sighed passively as a bus drove by the outdoor café. He glanced down at his paper again: "_Callaghan calls for more communication monitors, Bill passes unanimously_".

_Pigs,_ Jazz thought. Callaghan and all of his CPF cronies needed to be dropped off of the tallest building in the city.

A group of school girls walked past Jazz. Each of them stared briefly at Jazz, beaming and giggling. Jazz returned a quiet nod, which in return made them laugh and smile even more.

Jazz absent-mindedly twisted the bright red ring on his right ring finger with his thumb. It was a habit; not a bad one, more like a nervous tick.

Suddenly, Jazz's eyes shot up. He sniffed once deeply – almost a primal reaction. He angled his sunglasses down and looked up and down the street. He saw one particularly stuffy-looking Indian Businessman, the group of school girls who had just passed, and then a Eurasian woman wearing a long black trench coat and – a single red driving glove.

Jazz immediately shot up and removed his sunglasses. _Another Runner!_ Jazz was honestly startled: Once you became a runner, you did not get a book with every other runner's identity in it. Any others you met, you would have to do so on the job. With Red being the unofficial color of the Runners, anyone seen wearing red, even the smallest bit, was probably a runner.

Jazz wasn't going to miss this opportunity. He quickly laid a five-spot on the table and walked past the café's fence. The Eurasian girl was walking closer now. Jazz could see that she had a tattoo underneath her right eye resembling a tear-drop. Her short black hair hung close to her head, and her left hand was placed delicately in her pocket. Her right hand hung freely, that lone red glove taunting Jazz.

Jazz saw his chance.

"Excuse me, Miss?" He said as politely as he could.

The woman looked over quickly, an impatient look dominating her expression. Jazz supposed she must've been busy, so he had to think quickly. You couldn't just say "Hey, I'm a runner too!" Not in public. He wasn't sure how to break the ice, and this girl's will to focus on him was growing weaker by the second. Suddenly, an idea so simple popped into his head that it might as well have been written on the sidewalk.

Jazz held up his right hand, exposing his ring. The girl's eyes widened and she stepped towards him, covering such a distance in a single step that one might have thought her a ballerina. She grabbed his hand with a strength Jazz would not have guessed she possessed, and gingerly studied his hand.

After a few seconds of silence, the girl looked up with a smile on her face.

"Faith." She said, pointing as subtly as possible to herself.

"Jazz." Jazz replied, flashing a wide smile. This made the girl – Faith giggle a bit, which made Jazz blush.

"Come with me." Faith said, taking Jazz by the wrist and forcibly leading him down the street. Jazz followed, unwillingly at first, but he soon kept pace with her without needing her as a guide.

Jazz thought about beginning a conversation. _You look like an idiot! Ask her something; anything! Favorite song? Favorite food? Favorite rooftop?_

"How did you get involved in Running?" Jazz blurted out. He immediately regretted his question. Faith looked at him, almost as if she was deeply offended. Her look of offense quickly dissipated into a deep-seated smirk.

"Ah-ah-ah, 'Jazz'." Faith said playfully. "First date, no tongue…service." She quickly added.

Jazz was taken aback. _Such a pretty girl, pulling you along by the arm, then you go and get all personal, and she denies you with a joke? Oh, Jazzy Boy, come on now! She's begging for it!_

"I can dig it." Jazz said, flashing a twin thumbs-up.

Faith smiled again. _Wow. What a nice smile._ Jazz thought.

"Hey, as long as there aren't any people around, wanna have a little race?" Jazz said, hoping to exploit their common ground.

Faith smiled again. "Why not? Just make sure you can keep up." Then she sprinted down an alleyway. Jazz grunted in surprise and took off after her.

Faith vaulted off a trashcan and onto the wall behind it before launching herself up to the adjacent buildings fire escape. Jazz simply jumped up the wall, mimicking the famous "Spider Man" in his hand and foot movements, and swung himself onto the same fire escape.

Faith responded by vertically scaling the outside of the fire escape using only her feet. Jazz was only a second behind her, but that was enough to give her the edge. He was surprised she could still move so nimbly in that trench coat she was wearing.

Thirteen flights of fire escape passed before Jazz was on the roof top. Faith was already ahead of him, pumping her arms and legs so fast it all looked like a black blob with a small red fleck on the outside. Jazz pumped his limbs as fast as he could in an effort to catch up.

As a joke, Jazz made the noise of a race car as he gained on Faith. He started quietly, as if the car was far behind, but as he grew closer and closer, he increased his volume until he was parallel with her. He stopped making noise and looked at her.

She turned her head and flirtatiously winked. _Jazz, you are _the_ man._ He thought.

Faith flipped her head forwards, and her flirtatious expression was replaced by one of shock. She grabbed Jazz by his arm and span around twice before throwing him backwards. Jazz came to a screeching halt, spinning in place once. He looked back towards where Faith was.

As it turns out, Jazz was mere inches from plummeting head first over the roof's edge. Faith's quick thinking was the only thing that had saved his life. That thought was the least of his attention at the moment, though. He was focused more on Faith.

She had vaulted off of the roof top, spun around, and flashed him Peace signs with both hands. She quickly dropped out of sight. Jazz sprinted to the edge of the roof, ignoring his slight whiplash, and frantically looked around for Faith.

She was nowhere to be seen.

Jazz clutched at his chest and caught his breath. It was only then that he grasped the gravity of the situation. _Dude, she just saved your life while flirting with you. _

Jazz reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone, which had its own encryption code. He thumbed the speed dial button for Merc.

"_Jazz, baby, what's up my man?_" Merc asked happily.

"Merc, man: I think I'm in love."


End file.
